Wednesday, November 2, 2016

I am a few months into my second year of teaching second grade. Including student teaching, I have taught well over fifty kids, so while I am still considered a new teacher, I have hundreds of stories to tell.

There are some thing that my undergraduate classes didn't cover, that nothing prepared me for. Because it's easy to be a teacher - come up with fun games to teach math concepts or help the students to write daily in a journal. The hard part is all the other jobs that comes with teaching.

I am not just a teacher.

I am a hair stylist, washing candy that got stuck in a little girl's hair ten minutes before the class picture was taken.

I am a nurse, applying ice and bandages, inspecting bug bites and scratches.

I am a musician, singing silly songs over and over to help the class memorize grammar rules.

I am a police officer, blowing my whistle to stop kids who are trying to jump over the fence and leave school property.

I am an artist, drawing pictures of flowers, seahorses, hearts, and wild things.

I am a referee, listening to angry friends each tell their side of the story.

I am a judge, enforcing consequences and requiring apologies.

I am a fitness coach, teaching students how to do burpees.

I am a Oscar winning actress, pretending to be surprised at things I've known all along, or holding in laughter when a child is being unknowingly hilarious.

I am a speech therapist, making sure the students are saying "erosion" and not "erection".

I am a scientist, giving kids a chance to suggest theories and test them out.

I am a cleaner, scrubbing paint off of desks and glitter out of rugs.

I am a mother, cleaning the wrinkled shirt that is worn to school every day, sneaking them an extra snack, comforting them after a hard night.

I am a doctor, making sure the little boy with asthma has his inhaler, and knowing the details of a seven year old's antidepressant medication.